


Modern Technology

by desperationandgin



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 11:42:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4018468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/desperationandgin/pseuds/desperationandgin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Regina has taught Robin how to use a cell phone. He, of course, only remembers how to take photos of her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Modern Technology

Robin has a dirty little secret, and Regina, for all that she’s seen in her life, is thoroughly shocked when she discovers it.

She’s been teaching him things slowly but surely as they arise, and somehow, modern cell phones only become a conversation piece when Roland’s sick at school and the nurse can only call Regina. It isn’t a problem, Robin has no qualms with the school calling Regina, but it’s still a necessity they can’t afford  _not_  to have in a town like Storybrooke, where something happens any time someone’s idiotic enough to think they’ve had a nice stretch of calm. (It’s usually Snow who says it, and then when a monster comes out of the ocean, or something comes out of the forest born of magic from the well, it makes the urge to want to strangle arise all over again.)

So, they - she, Robin, and Henry - have new smart phones, and at home, Regina shows Robin how to use it. She has to learn, it’s different than her Blackberry, but she’s familiar enough with modern technology that she figures it out easily, and she has Henry to fall back on when something doesn’t make sense. The camera is the last thing she bothers with, but eventually she explains how to use it and they take various photos together, of Roland making faces, Regina holding up a hand playfully to get him to stop, and a fair few shots of carpet and walls. It’s completely by accident that she figures out, a few weeks later, that Robin has a particular interest in one certain subject.

_Her._

Nights ago, as she’d shown him pictures of Roland at the park, her thumb grazed the camera button and for fun, they’d taken pictures in bed together; nothing salacious, though oh how he’d tried. “You mean I could have a photo of you as you look right now, to keep?” ‘Right now’ had her nude and lying on her back as they’d laughed over the camera. She’d rolled her eyes playfully, had made a random comment. “I doubt you could take any picture of me in bed or otherwise that’s worth keeping.”

Apparently, that was a direct challenge.

His phone rings while he’s in the shower and she ignores it, but there are only so many times a person can call and she can listen to the chirping crickets (why  _that_  ringtone? She’s asked him and he shrugged and said something about sounds of the forest) before she answers. It’s Will, and there’s no emergency, he only called eight times to ask if Robin is free for poker in the shop tomorrow night. She promises to relay the message, hangs up, and the screen goes to what Robin had last been looking at: his photo albums. She isn’t a snoop, at least not with him, but the thumbnail is her face, and she figures she’s proprietary imagery, and clicks the button. What she finds is not at all what she expected. He’s taken photos of her when she’s been completely unaware: engrossed with Roland over baking cookies, grinning at him, Roland looking up at her as if she’s telling the secret to the stars. Working on homework with Henry, washing dishes - there are a fair few of her backside and that makes her roll her eyes. And then, then she gets to the pictures he’s taken when she’s wrapped in a towel in the mornings still bleary eyed after her shower. Pictures of her with only underwear on and no bra. Pictures of her nude and asleep. She’s so engrossed in what she’s seeing that she doesn’t notice when he steps out of the bathroom, white towel wrapped low around his hips until he clears his throat and she promptly tosses the phone on the bed. “Will called.”

His eyebrow raises, not at all questioning. But his eyes glance to the screen showing her photo, then back at her. “You did doubt I could take a picture I’d find worthy of keeping.”

Jaw dropping, Regina gestures to the phone. “Those are worth keeping?”

Robin stands in front of her, hands starting at her shoulders and trailing their way down until he can lift her hands between them. “Why wouldn’t they be?”

“I’m…” she struggles with her words then, huffing when they don’t come to her right away. “I look like a disaster in the kitchen, and the others…no makeup, hair everywhere, awkward positions…” She only trails off because he’s looking at her as if she’s talking through a second mouth.

“Regina, you truly think you’re any less beautiful without your cosmetics? Without each hair perfectly in place? I think any version of you is quite sexy, you know that. But you, underneath it all, are quite stunning. I enjoy capturing that, to have  _you_  to look at the way I see you when I wake in the mornings. To see the love you have for Roland in your eyes, even when you feel harried because he’s added a touch too much of something in brownie batter. The way you let me see you, that’s important to me. And worth keeping.”

She’s blinking quickly at that, swallowing heavily, and her arms wind around his neck as she lets his arms envelope her. “Have I told you today, that I love you?”

“You have in fact,” she can feel his chuckle against her neck. “But I never mind hearing it again.”

Her nose nuzzles against still damp skin, breathing in the smell of him, the familiar, clean, sandalwood smell of him from soap and shampoo. “I love you,” Regina murmurs again, unable to resist temptation and kissing his skin, hands slowly moving down his sides until they reach fabric. “I know you’re nice and clean now…”

He smirks and without warning, she finds herself tossed gently on the bed, laughing up at him as the towel gets tossed aside and he moves over her, kissing her deeply, fingers gliding through her hair as he braces himself on elbows and knees. His lips move, trail along her jaw and down her neck that she tilts to accommodate, as he moves onto the buttons of her blouse. Each reveal of skin finds a kiss pressed there until the shirt is spread and her lavender bra has him kissing the curve of each breast before his journey continues. She gasps when his tongue circles her torso, when his lips press just above the button of her trousers. When he pauses, she knows there’s decision making in progress: Undress her and tease, or undress her and make her come undone because he can’t help himself. Honestly, either is fine with her, but her bottom lip tugs between her teeth to stifle a whimper when his hand cups her through her pants, palm pressing firmly to her clit. Back and forth he presses, while he keeps kissing along her stomach. She rocks into the touch, eyes closing at the pleasant friction, both of them knowing it’s not enough to give her the toe curling climax he’s working toward. But he seems to become impatient with himself and moves to finally push the offending garment away, until she’s left in the matching lace (can barely be called) underwear. That scrap he tugs down with his teeth, falling off of the bed with it until he’s on his knees and he’s tugged her to the edge of the mattress. Without hesitation, her thighs part, but he moves to the inner portion, presses chaste kisses there. Well, chaste if she didn’t know him, didn’t know his innocence flew right out of the window the second he ever had her spread in front of him.

She knows too, that he enjoys making her writhe, and now is no exception as his tongue drags through her folds, not quite paying attention to anything in particular yet, but it makes her gasp, head dropping back to the pillows. He moves back to her thighs, shifts up just enough to kiss the crease where her thigh joins torso. It makes her jerk against him and she can feel his smile against her skin before his head drops again and his hands spread her, tongue finally moving across her in one slow swipe that makes her let out an exhale of breath and draw in another as he finds her clit and sucks. It makes her toes clench, and when he pulls back all that she can do is whine her discontent, one hand slapping down lightly against his shoulder. “No. Don’t,” she breathes out. “Don’t stop. I need…”

His tongue moves over her again in short order, eager and quick before stopping. “What do you need?”

Regina can’t breathe, but she’s giving it a good try as her chest rises and falls quickly, bottom lip going between her teeth. And she’s about to answer until his lips suck, hard and eager. “ _That_ ,” she cries out, unable to muffle her moan. But the next one has her hand over her mouth because he knows, once he gets her going this way it’s a sprint to the finish line, knows he makes her struggle to stay silent, to not wake the boys. She knows that  _he knows_ it’s not very nice at all when he does this, but it’s also bliss and heaven and so, so worth it. With every stroke of his tongue she unravels a bit more, wet against him and not caring as she presses and he encourages. One hand splays on her stomach, the other still keeping her open for him, and then he moans against her and it’s over. Vibration and lips and tongue send her careening over the edge, grasping for purchase in the sheets with her free hand, the other still pressing tightly to her own mouth until she’s settled enough to not make a noise she can’t explain away in the morning. But now she’s inspired, now she feels as beautiful as he finds her in those pictures, and she tugs him up greedily before managing to get him to his back. Straddling his hips, she can feel him, hard and warm against her sex and she reaches behind her back to tug off her bra, letting it fall to the bed beside them. Leaning over him, her mouth finds his, humming when his tongue strokes her bottom lip.

“I do love this view,” he breathes out, and his hands cup her breasts, thumbs gliding across her nipples before he’s unable to help himself, leaning forward and capturing one between his lips, sucking until he lets go with a soft pop, then greedily moving to the other, hands sliding down her backside to cradle her ass in his hands, squeezing lightly as she rocks against him.

His groan pulls her out of the haze of pleasure he so easily put her into. She has a plan, and she won’t be deterred now. Because she is going to make it impossible for him to not groan, to have to be the one to stifle himself now. Raising her hips enough to reach between them, she drags him across her folds, letting him feel, teasing him with heat and watching as his eyes roll back in his head, dropping against the pillows. Slowly, she guides his cock into her body, closing her eyes because it’s not as if this isn’t everything to her, too, the way that he wants her, the way it’s only her who does this to him. When she lets her eyes roam back to his face, she doesn’t expect to find his eyes open again and on her, and the heat there, the sheer need for her makes her gasp and pick up her rhythm, tightening around him until he lets out an involuntary sound, loud and causing him to run a hand over his face, realizing what she’s doing. “God, Regina…”

That’s all she needs, it’s what she wanted to hear, and she moves faster now, rocking against him as his hips press up, and she manages to gasp out, wanting him to know, wanting him to see that she’s going to make pleasure unfurl and flame out all over again. For him, because of him. “Look,” she pants, and when he is, when he’s watching, her hand steals between her thighs, fingers pressing to her clit, eyes fluttering shut as her mouth falls open in pleasure. It’s too much for him, she can feel his hips stutter, and when she feels his hand move from her hip she opens her eyes in time to see him pulling a pillow over his face. Even in the throes of pleasure, she grins triumphant as he comes, groan muffled by the pillow and his thrusting up against her as he empties himself into her. She finishes only a few seconds behind him, managing not to need any stifling, letting out only a soft, quiet moan this time. Falling against his chest she rolls to the side, hot and panting.

For a few long moments there’s no movement, just labored breathing until they both relax again, and then she feels him shift, blinking open her eyes and wondering where exactly he’s going. He doesn’t get up, she finds herself looking at the phone as he snaps a photo and she protests too late, laughing. “No, Robin, that’s…”

He interrupts her with a kiss. “Beautiful.”

And she has to admit, sweating and flushed, with him beside her, she has never felt more beloved and beautiful than she does with him.


End file.
